


Miraculous: Tales of Tentōmushi and Kuro Neko

by Falcrow



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: :), Aizawa thinks Yamada is cool, Also the one year anniversary gift to my rp server, Bugs, Bullying, Coping with Depression, Coping with anxiety, Coping with phobias, Hawkmoth is in the story, I might add more character tags later if they come up a lot, I'm so sorry Mic I love you it'll get better I promise, M/M, Mic is unpopular in the beginning, Present Mic's Entomophobia, Quirkless!AU, Stranger to Friends to Lovers, The miraculous au no one asked for, Yamada Hizashi is his own worst critic, Yamada thinks Aizawa is cool, accusations of cheating on school work, adhd mic, anxiety mic, but gabriel agreste is not so, but he'll be friends with Everyone by the end, chat noir!eraser, depressed aizawa, ladybug!mic, misunderstandings abound, seriously this might give you some second hand cringe because it's been giving me some as I write it, set in Japan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcrow/pseuds/Falcrow
Summary: Aizawa Shouta is the new transfer student to the prestigious school of UA. He is not here to make friends. Yamada Hizashi is the annoying loud kid who talks too much and tries too hard.They'd make the perfect partners, and it may take a genius to spot it, but luckily there's one on hand to put it in motion.--You don't need to have watch Miraculous Ladybug to understand or enjoy this fic, but I do recommend the show if you're like me and find enjoyment in shows aimed for younger audiences. Rated T for non-graphic near death experiences, and the meltdowns that come with being a bug themed superhero with anxiety and a bug phobia.





	1. Origins part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be slow to update I'm so sorry, I'll try to update at least once a month but I've learned better than to promise as much

Yamada Hizashi is really very much in a rush. He’s running late, his perfect attendance is at stake, and he does _not_ have time to help old men, no matter how sweet they look. _Yet here he is,_ catching the shoulder of an _exceptionally_ old man wearing a well pressed three piece suit, to keep him from tripping. Unluckily, the grocery bag the man was carrying tumbles to the sidewalk, and before Hizashi can think too hard on it, he’s bending over to start picking things up, mouth moving a mile a minute, as always.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? Was there anything breakable in there? Oh man that was almost really bad, maybe you should look into getting one of those neat little folding wagons, unless you have one and you just forgot it? My mom got my ma one for her birthday and she hated it at first, or well, more the idea of it, I guess, but now she loves it!! Makes living on the seventh floor a lot easier since we can take all the groceries up in one go!!”

The old man seems amused at his motormouth, at least. Better that than annoyed, which was the more common reaction. Finally, all the spilled groceries are back in the bag. Hizashi hesitates a moment before handing it back.

“Do you want help getting this home…?”

“That’s quite alright, I think there is somewhere else you need to be.”

The man smiles, soft and knowing, and Hizashi smacks his forehead as he remembers.

“I’M LATE FOR CLASS!! GOOD LUCK MISTER I GOTTA GO!!!”

* * *

Hizashi manages to burst through his classroom door a split second before the bell rings. He bows to his teacher in apology, but Sorahiko-sensei waves him off.

“You made it just in time Yamada, just don't make a habit of it.”

The tension drains for his shoulders and he quickly makes his way to his seat on the back row. He almost trips in shock, because the seat next to his own isn't empty. Two days after school had started, the girl who’d sat there dropped out. Yosh-something. For a moment, he thinks the drop-out changed her mind, but no, the dark haired kid is definitely a boy. The desk in the far corner had been empty for well over a week now, Hizashi had assumed it would stay that way.

Apparently not.

Hizashi slides into his desk and quietly pulls out what he needs for homeroom as Sorahiko-sensei brings the attention back to the front of the room. It takes all of Hizashi's willpower not to tune him out in favor of staring at the new kid. He forgot to take his meds this morning in his rush, but he needs to try and focus anyway. Suddenly the new kid stands, and Hizashi realizes he'd spent the last minute focusing on focusing and not what Sorahiko-sensei was saying. He sighs softly and watches the tired and sorta scruffy boy make his way to the front. The new kid bows slightly, his hair falling to shield his expression.

“My name is Aizawa Shouta. Please take care of me,” he mumbles.

Aizawa makes his way back to his seat. Hizashi can't help but marvel at the short introduction; when they'd introduced themselves at the beginning of the year, everyone had included at least one thing about themselves. Hizashi himself had shared _three_ things (he loves skateboarding, he's fluent in JSL, and wants to host his own radio show) because he couldn't pick between them.

For a moment, Aizawa makes eye contact with Hizashi, and Hizashi shoots him a friendly smile and a small wave hello. But Aizawa looks away, expression still firmly neutral. He sits, and his hair blocks his face again. To Hizashi, it feels more like a door has been slammed in his face. With a soft sigh, he turns his attention back to their teacher. Looks like he was in for another year without any friends.

Class was a constant battle to focus well enough to take notes and answer questions, but once he gets into the groove of things, it feels like he’s blinked and suddenly most of the class has left for lunch. He didn’t even hear the bell ring. Hizashi puts his things back in his bag and pulls out his bento, ready to each lunch alone. He’d floated from one group of people to the next during the first few week, but he took the hint when people kept changing where they ate without telling him. His mom said he just needed to find the right person. His ma said he was better off without them, if they didn’t appreciate him the way he was. Hizashi felt he talked too much, but didn’t know another way to be. He tried to listen just as much as he talked, but he didn’t do too well with long silences.  
  
Hizashi jolts in surprise when someone taps his shoulder. He turns, and meets the heated glare of Aizawa Shouta. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t realized his new neighbor hadn’t left with the rest of the class.  
  
_“Oi._ What are you doing?”  
  
Aizawa’s low growl leaves Hizashi sweating bullets. It’s the sort of tone that makes his anxiety scream that he’s done something terribly, _terribly_ wrong. His reply ends up sounding more like a question because of this, and his mind is racing to find what he’d done to get on the new kid’s nerves so quickly. He hadn’t even _spoken_ to him yet, what could he have possibly done?

“I’m, ah, eating my lunch?”  
  
Aizawa’s glare sharpens exponentially as he leans closer, while alarm bells start ringing in Hizashi’s head. Clipping through the floor like a Bethesda character seems like an excellent idea right about now.  
  
“Why are you eating _here?”_  
  
Oh, Aizawa thinks he’s stating the obvious, noted. Hizashi manages a shaky smile, even though he’s almost falling out of his chair from trying to keep some space between them.  
  
“I always eat at my desk?”  
  
Aizawa continues to try to burn a hole through Hizashi’s face and lets the silence stretch, and Hizashi becomes aware that he hasn’t seen Aizawa blink yet. Finally, just before Hizashi cracks under the pressure and flees the room, Aizawa speaks again. His voice is still cold and accusing.  
  
“Right. Like you don’t have somewhere better to be.”  


Hizashi winces, Aizawa sure knew how to hit where it hurt. Hizashi didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have any friends, but their classmates would likely fill Aizawa in on their opinions of him as soon as the opportunity arose, so why deny it?  
  
Hizashi mumbles, “I really don’t,” and Aizawa scoffs. The noise makes Hizashi’s spine straighten in anger, “I don’t!” Aizawa rolls his eyes, and it’s the last straw for this awful day. Hizashi stands and starts repacking his bento as he talks, “What’s your _problem?_ I didn’t _do anything_ so why are you acting like I’ve kicked your cat or something? You could have at _least_ waited until we’d had a conversation before you decided to hate me, like everyone else!”  
  
Hizashi slams the lid of his bento on to punctuate his sentence, picks up the last of his things, and storms out of the room. He finds a quiet corner of an unused side hallway, only to realize he’s completely lost his appetite. The silence starts to press on him, so he pulls out his ancient ipod and plugs in his headphones. Once again, time seems to fly past him in a haze, and he doesn’t hear the bell. Instead, it’s the steady stream of students that tip him off that lunch is over and classes will be starting soon.

Class is just as difficult to focus on as it was this morning, but this time Hizashi forces himself to keep his eyes on his notebook. Even if he isn’t writing, and his mind is wandering, he refuses to look up. No matter how badly his neck tingles with the feeling of eyes on him. The bell rings, and Hizashi is the first out the door. The notes he’d taken for today were awful, but he promises himself that he’ll fix them tomorrow morning, after his medication had kicked in and reading a textbook to figure out what he missed sounded more doable.

He makes it past the gates of UA Highschool, when the weight of the day becomes too much. Tears slowly drip down his face and his breath catches in his throat. He pulls his glasses off, before they slip or smudge, and rubs fruitlessly at his face. Hizashi is an obvious crier. Like everything else, it comes out louder than he means it to, and his face is quick to turn a splotchy red. In the back of his mind, he’s grateful he at least made it outside the school before he broke down. Despite the way his classmates treat him, Hizashi makes a point to keep the hurt they cause to himself. He’d rather smile and pretend he doesn’t know, then let on that it gets to him.

For the second time that day, a tap on his shoulder makes him jump out of his skin. Hizashi spins around on instinct, but freezes when he meets Aizawa’s eyes. The shock of it all is enough to bring his tears to a grinding halt. There’s a pregnant pause as Hizashi calms his racing heart, before his gaze slides away and the tears start up again. He starts walking when Aizawa remains silent, as stoney-faced as ever. He’s resigned to the idea that the entire school would hear that Hizashi had cried like a baby after class, when Aizawa snags his sleeve.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
His voice is much softer than it was at lunch. Hizashi obliges, if only because he’s curious, and well, today can’t really get much worse, can it? But he can’t bring himself to open his mouth, instead he sniffs pathetically and rubs a frustrated hand across his face. The silence drags and pricks at Hizashi’s anxiety, but just as he’s about to pull away and keep walking home, Aizawa speaks again.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he pauses, and Hizashi thinks for a split second that Aizawa expects a response, before Aizawa continues, “for being so rude during lunch. You were right, I made assumptions and lashed out for no reason.”  
  
Hizashi had never expect an _apology,_ no one else had ever apologized to Hizashi for the rude things they’d done or said. Not even when the entire class was proven wrong about how he got his test scores. His voice comes out as a hoarse croak.  
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
Aizawa gestures to his own face, “It’s obviously not.”  
  
Hizashi can’t help a loud bark of laughter. It’s sudden enough that Aizawa jolts slightly.  
  
“I’m crying because today sucked, dude. Sure lunch didn’t _help_ but it was more icing on the cake than anything else. If I cried every time someone was mean to me I’d never stop, I think.”  
  
Aizawa relaxes slightly, and nods his head. Hizashi shuffles awkwardly for a moment, and the quiet pushes him to speak.  
  
“So-”  
  
“Did-”  
  
They start and cut off at the same time, and Hizashi laughs again. He waves for Aizawa to speak first.  
  
“Did you want to talk about what else went wrong today…?”  
  
Hizashi blinks owlishly, of all the things Aizawa could have said, that isn’t what he expected.  
  
“Um. I don’t have to, you don’t owe me or anything.”  
  
Aizawa huffs slightly out of his nose, and runs a hand through his mane of dark hair.  
  
“That wasn’t the question, Yamada.”  
  
Hizashi takes a moment to feel the weight of his answer on his tongue. Talking _always_ made him feel better, but he didn’t want to drive Aizawa off and end this weird truce on a sour note.  
  
“I do, but, I don’t want to keep you. You probably want to head home. I’ll be fine, really.”  
  
Aizawa shoves a hand in his pocket, and gestures down the road with the other.  
  
“You were leaving this way, do you ride the train home?”  
  
Hizashi nods, still slightly in awe that Aizawa hadn’t taken the chance to leave.  
  
“So do I. Talk on the way.”  
  
Aizawa walks past him, but pauses when Hizashi doesn’t follow. Hizashi stares, mouth slightly agape, until Aizawa slightly raises his eyebrows. It’s as if he’s silently asking how long it would take for Hizashi’s brain to catch up. Hizashi physically shakes himself out of it, and jogs to fall into step next to Aizawa. After a block of walking in silence, Hizashi is still hesitating to say what’s bothering him, he doesn’t know where to start or how much detail to include. But Aizawa comes to his rescue.  
  
“Why were you almost late this morning?” he prompts.  
  
Hizashi groans dramatically as he remembers the train wreck this morning.  
  
“My cat knocked my phone off it’s charger, it died in the night so I didn’t have an alarm to wake up to,” now that he’s been given a starting place, he finds his line of thought and rolls with it, “I was so caught up on making sure I grabbed all my homework that I forgot to take my meds, so my brain keeps switching between being complete mush and being pulled in a million directions at once.”  
  
Aizawa takes the slight pause Hizashi leaves to ask, “Meds?”  
  
Hizashi blushes, he didn't usually bring it up, but, it makes sense Aizawa would be curious.  
  
“For my ADHD, and anxiety, it’s almost impossible for me to get anything done without them.”  
  
Aizawa nods, before offering a quiet, “I have depression.”  
  
It eases Hizashi’s nerves like a cool wind on a burn. A secret for a secret. The rest of the walk derails from the woes of the day, and into happier things. The walk to the station, and then the train ride when it turns out they take the same one, leaves Hizashi feeling lighter than he’s felt in _months._ It’s probably a one time thing, but, Hizashi is determined to make the feeling last as long as he can.


	2. Origins part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hizashi meets Tikki, and immediately dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait!! I'm going to tentatively try and update once a month, on the 11th!!
> 
> Edit: I forgot I said they rode the same train in the first chapter, so I changed it to be consistent this chapter!!! I also edited some grammar stuff in the last couple of paragraphs, but nothing story changing!

“Tadaimaaaa!” Hizashi calls as he closes his front door. He slips off his shoes and puts them away, then reaches around the corner of the entryway to flick the light switch off and on a couple times. From down the hall, there’s a muffled “Okaeri!” in reply. He follows the sound to his mom’s office, and pokes his head in to see her sitting at her design board. He knocks on the door softly to get her attention. She turns her office chair and holds her arms open for a hug. Hizashi is quick to oblige, and presses a kiss to her cheek while he’s at it.

“You seem happy, something good happen at school today?”

Hizashi smiles genuinely, and pats her arm, “Nope!”

Her brow furrows in confusion, but she seems amused by his answer.

“Then what’s got you all peppy, hm?”

“Something that happened _after_ school. I don’t think it’ll happen a second time, though, so your regularly scheduled angst rant will be back soon, I’m sure.”

That draws out a snorting laugh from his mom. He knew for a fact that both of his moms would give anything for him to come home smiling every day, but he _also_ knew it was better for all of them if he was honest with how he was feeling. So, both of his mothers were perfectly aware with how his high school days were going. Although, he didn’t feel like sharing what had happened with Aizawa, just yet. He wanted to see if it _was_ just a one time thing, like he thought. No need to get anyone’s hopes up that he’s finally making a friend. Himself included. That said, telling them they’d gotten a new student today seemed fine.

“They introduced a new kid to my class, his name is Aizawa Shouta, he sits next to me since the girl who dropped out sat in the back-most corner. He’s got a glare that could burn holes through steel, Superman levels of deadly!!” Hizashi mimics lasers coming out of his eyes for dramatic effect. It sends his mom into another fit of giggles, “But, he seems okay. I don’t think he’s the sort to stick bugs in my desk, or anything, so with any luck we’ll be able to co-exist next to each other for the next three years.”

His mom smiles, a touch of sympathy spilling into it, and pats his cheek.

“I hope so, darling.”

Hizashi takes the opportunity to change the subject from school. It made everyone involved sad if they dwelled on it too much.

“Where’s Ma?”

“She’s in sleeping. I’m going to run to the store here in a minute, to grab some things for dinner. We can call for you once it’s ready?”

“Sounds good, thanks!! I’ll be in my room, then!”

Hizashi heads to the end of the hall, to his room. He slips his backpack from his shoulders and leaves it by the door, before softly shutting it to change out of his uniform. Now in a much more comfortable T-shirt and gym shorts, Hizashi takes a seat at his computer, eager to get to work on a new episode of his _(all but unknown)_ podcast. He comes up short of turning on his computer, however. A small, black, hexagonal box rests in front of his keyboard. His ma was one for impromptu gift giving, so it wasn’t exactly _odd_ for him to find random little presents, but usually there was a note with it. _Maybe it was on the inside…?_ So, without any further thought, Hizashi pops open the box.

There’s a moment where Hizashi can see a pair of simple stud earrings, then the next there’s a flash of red light. Hizashi drops the box, startled, and shields his face with his arms until the light fades. Slowly, he peeks between his arms, only to find a pair of large, dark blue eyes peeking back. There is a very red, _very_ **_large,_ ** ladybug-ish humanoid creature, about two inches from his face.

“Hi!” it says, in a quiet, distinctly feminine voice.

Hizashi bodily _flings_ himself backwards with a panicked shriek. He falls out of his rolling chair and onto the hardwood flooring with a painful _smack!_ He pushes himself backwards with frantic kicks and flailing arms. His breathing comes out in short gasps by the time his back hits his bedroom door. He fumbles as he reaches for the doorknob, desperate to be out of the room and as far away from the _thing_ that came out of the box. Much to Hizashi’s horror, the giant ladybug follows after him, mirroring his own panicked expression.

“Wait! Wait please, let me explain-”

Hizashi keeps his back to the wall, eyes still wide with terror, as he ducks around it. He traces the edge of the room as he makes his way to the only other exit: the window. His arms are shaking uncontrollably, there’s static creeping into his fingers and toes.

“Please, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you! Just please, quiet down before your parents hear, and I’ll explain everything!”

They won’t. His mom didn’t come when he hit the floor, so she’s left for the store. His ma didn’t like to wear her hearing aids at home, _and_ she was sleeping. Neither of his parents where going to hear him, no matter how noisy he is. The thought is the final straw. His vision grows black around the edges as his throat closes.

Hizashi wakes to a deep throbbing in his head and shoulder, from hitting the floor if he had to guess, and a crick in his neck from lying on something so hard for too long. It takes him a moment to reorient himself, to process the lingering struggle to breathe, and that he’d had such a severe panic attack that _he’d passed out._ That hadn’t happened in a long, long time. Not since he’d left foster care. His moms had gotten him a therapist, where Hizashi learned about phobias and anxiety and how to _cope._ But, none of that explained what he’d seen, or what had happened.

With all the awful dread of a horror movie, Hizashi slowly looks towards his desk, where he'd found the box. There, sitting on the edge of his desk and staring silently, is the ladybug. Despite the fatigue of his earlier adrenaline rush, Hizashi scooches himself away again, blood pumping in his ears until it’s all he can hear. His limbs feel like they’re filled with lead, and it’s happening _again. Why did panic attacks have to be so easy to chain?_

A voice cuts through the haze like a knife, soothing and slow, “My name is Tikki. What’s yours?”

It takes Hizashi a small eternity to find his voice, but he clings to the normalcy of introductions to try and pull himself out of the encroaching threat of a second panic attack.

“Hizashi,” he clears his throat, “Yamada Hizashi.”

Tikki smiles, Hizashi can see it from across the room. It makes their face light up and their eyes squint. Everything about this is weird, but he’s using it to calm down anyway. Bugs can’t smile, so there’s no bugs here. No need to freak out. He does his best to slow his breathing; he can deal with this, he _can._ And, maybe he can figure out what’s going on, too. _After_ his breathing evens out, one thing at a time.

“Are you okay?”

Hizashi startles slightly, before hesitantly shaking his head ‘no.’

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Do you need a minute? Or do you want me to explain?”

After a moment of consideration, he opts for the second option. It would be something to try focusing on, if nothing else.

“An explanation would be nice, yeah.”

He cringes at how horse his voice is.

“Okay, first things first! I’m a kwami, a magical being that can grant special powers, with the help of a miraculous. This one,” Tikki pats the set of earrings behind them, “grants the power of creation and luck.”

There’s a pause, where Hizashi gets the impression that Tikki is waiting for a reaction, but for the life of him Hizashi can’t figure out what he’s supposed to be reacting to. Magic being, magic earrings, both somehow in his room. He let them out and passed out from fear. What was the point?

“Okaaay, but, why are you _here,_ telling _me?_ That sounds, important, and secret.”

Tikki nods solemnly.

“I’m telling you because you’ve been chosen to keep and use the ladybug miraculous. And you’re right, it’s very important, and _very_ secret. No one can know of the existence of miraculouses, or that you have one.”

Hizashi’s breath hitches, and when he speaks, his voice cracks.

“Me?! _Who on Earth_ would think giving me a pair of magic bug earrings would be a good idea?!”

Hizashi tugs at his hair in agitation. This felt like something out of an anime, with a nightmare twist tailored specifically for him.

“Because, Hizashi, holders of the ladybug miraculous need to be fast thinkers, creative, and most importantly, _kind._ You were chosen because you are those things, and the world is going to need you. The butterfly miraculous was stolen, several decades ago, but it’s recently become active again. It’s only a matter of time before they show themselves, and not for anything good. The only thing strong enough to fight a miraculous holder is another miraculous holder, _please, Hizashi, you must understand-”_

“No, Tikki, _you_ need to understand what you’re asking of me.” Tikki looks taken aback at being interrupted, their eyes are wide at his harsh tone, “You want me to, what? Be a ladybug-themed magical girl?”

Tikki’s voice has softened considerably, and the part of Hizashi that knows they’re not a bug feels bad, “I usually say ‘superhero’ but, essentially, yes.”

 _“And_ you want me to fight an unknown butterfly-themed supervillain.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why I’m so scared right now? Do you know why I passed out? Do you know how much effort it’s taking me, right now, to keep from having a second panic attack?” Tikki shakes their head, and Hizashi sounds borderline hysterical to his own ears, “I have _crippling entomophobia._ I can’t do bugs, _I can’t._ You have to find someone else.”

Tikki, for a moment, looks _crushed._ And the next they’re gone. Hizashi blinks once, twice, then carefully uncurls from his place on the floor. He scans his room, trying to spot any red to indicate where Tikki went. He can’t find them. They seem to have disappeared as quickly as they came. So, with shaking hands, Hizashi snaps the box back closed, and shoves it into his backpack. He had to find whoever “choose” him, and make them _un_ choose him. Someone else could fight the evil butterfly villain and save the city, someone who wouldn’t panic to the point of passing out, like him.

That, as it turns out, is easier said than done. Hizashi has _no idea_ who could have given him the earrings. What does a magic jewelry peddler even look like? What had Hizashi done to catch their attention? Would they just _know_ he turned Tikki down? The stress of it is enough to keep Hizashi’s mind firmly occupied the next day. There's no room to think about how awful his classmates are, or how Aizawa is settling in.

Really the only thing that could draw his attention away from his mental dilemma of the earrings _still_ in the bottom of his bag is his school work. And it’s only because his scholarship depends on it. Not even an encounter with a magical-talking-ladybug-god-thing could excuse letting his grades drop, in his mind. He rewrites his god-awful notes from yesterday, like he promised himself, and does all the homework that was assigned, despite it not being due for another couple of days.

In fact, it’s not until lunch is nearly over that Hizashi is dragged out of his own head.

“You’ve been… More focused today,” comes Aizawa’s quiet monotone.

Hizashi hadn’t realized Aizawa had stayed in the classroom, _again._ Really, he needs to work on his self awareness. Still, Hizashi rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and manages a smile. He hopes it hides how worried about _everything_ he feels.

“I woke up on time, so I remembered to take them this morning.”

He shrugs with one shoulder and hopes it conveys the _this is how I am, usually,_ that he feels. Aizawa nods in acceptance. A small silences stretches, and now that Hizashi knows Aizawa’s there, he wants to talk with him more. Despite their rocky start, whatever kind of acquaintanceship they had now was leaps and bounds better than what he had with the rest of the class.

“How’re you liking UA so far?”

Near instantly, Hizashi regrets asking. It’s the most expression he’s seen from Aizawa, and it’s _thunderous._

“The people here are _illogical._ I didn’t come here to make friends, but I can’t tolerate the kind of people in our class.”

It felt vaguely like his stomach had turned to ice. Right, just because Aizawa apologized, didn’t mean he wanted to be friends. A wave of nervousness starts his motor mouth before he can stop it.

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever met a person I could 100% logic out. There’s just too many variables involved, plus that little thing called ‘free will,’ ya dig?”

Aizawa’s face clears, for the most part. There’s a slight furrow to his brows still, but it eases Hizashi’s dread of opening his mouth. Aizawa nods slightly, and silence falls between them again. Hizashi tries to keep his mouth full so he can't speak again, but he quickly runs out of lunch. It's not long after that Hizashi cracks and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“I like your cat charm.”

Aizawa looks mildly startled. _Why couldn't he just keep his big mouth shut?_ A hot flush creeps up Hizashi's neck as he elaborates.

“On your bag.”

Like magic, they both turn to look at it. It's an adorable acrylic charm, of a grumpy looking cat in sleeping bag, with the words “Cat Nap” along the bottom. Aizawa turns back to his lunch, his hair blocking off his face.

“Thanks.”

It's quiet, and in the same monotone, but the words themselves are unmistakable. Hizashi is saved from embarrassing himself further, the bell signalling the end of lunch rings and their classmates shuffle in.

The rest of the school day is completely average, completely unremarkable compared to yesterday as a whole. Hizashi doesn’t rush out the door at the end of the day, but when he reaches the front doors, he stops. It’s raining cats and dogs outside. He doesn’t know how he missed the start of the storm, but if the amount of water on the ground is anything to go by, it’s been going for a while. He didn’t bring an umbrella.

Nothing for it, a little water never hurt anyone who didn't dry off once they're home. He sighs and heads out, his head tucked down to try and keep water out of his eyes. He’s about halfway to the train station when he hears something over the rain: a tiny chorus of “mews.” He pauses at the mouth of an alleyway, straining his ears. _There,_ it’s definitely coming from further in, so Hizashi slowly walks into the alley, trying to pinpoint where the pitiful noises are coming from. It takes a couple minutes, but Hizashi finds them in a very soggy cardboard box shoved against a dumpster.  _Them_ being four equally soggy kittens. They're shivering and staring up at him hopefully. Hizashi makes a split second decision and untucks the front of his button down shirt. He holds the bottom hem with one hand and carefully places the kittens in his makeshift kangaroo pouch with the other. He rebuttons his blazer, and holds the top closed with his free hand. He hopes it’ll be enough for the rest of the walk home.

With a new purpose and speed in his step, Hizashi leaves the alley, only to  _immediately_ barrel into someone. Hizashi squeaks in surprise, and stumbles backwards. Luckily, a hand grabs his awkwardly angled elbow and steadies him. Hizashi has a dozen apologies on the tip of his tongue, but when he sees who's caught him, his mouth gets other ideas.

“Aizawa!”

“Yamada. What are you doing?”

Hizashi flushes.

“I was heading home, but I heard something. Want to see? They're _adorable.”_

Aizawa’s eyebrows scrunch a millimeter, but he slowly nods nonetheless. Hizashi steps closer, under the safety of Aizawa’s umbrella, and unbuttons his jacket. Aizawa’s eyes widen when he hears the tiny mews, and reaches out to softly pet them as soon as Hizashi's blazer is open. Hizashi grins from ear to ear, it’s the first time he’s seen Aizawa express any kind of positive reaction to something. He finds himself excitedly explaining further as he watches Aizawa pet the kittens.

“No way I could leave them out here in this weather, so I’m going to take them home. My family’s apartment allows pets, and if my moms don’t want to keep them, we can take them to a no-kill shelter or something, once they’re dry and fed and stuff. My ma used to foster kittens all the time, before she got married and they adopted me. They didn’t want me to get attached just to have to say goodbye, I think? But she still has all the stuff for them, and I know they won’t mind.”

Aizawa hums in agreement, “They're probably only a couple weeks old, their ears are still on the sides of their heads. I hope the mother is alright.”

Hizashi nods solemnly at that. Aizawa pulls his hand back, and Hizashi buttons his jacket closed again. As soon as the kittens are safely hidden away again, Aizawa speaks.

“I’ll walk with you to the station.”

“Really?! Thanks, that’ll be a huge help!”

They make good time, Hizashi chatters excitedly the entire way, too happy about the now-warm bundles of fur to worry about talking too much. Aizawa hums every so often and gives one or two word answers where appropriate, but otherwise he's quiet. It’s not until it’s time for them to part ways that he says more than that, and it’s to convince Hizashi to take Aizawa's folded umbrella.

“You need it more than me. I don’t live far from my stop, and you can return it tomorrow.”

Hizashi clutches the umbrella close, and  _ beams. _

“THANK YOU!! I’ll see you tomorrow, then, bye Aizawa!”

Aizawa nods, apparently satisfied. Hizashi waves from the platform, and Aizawa lifts a hand in acknowledgement. Hizashi gets home to find the kittens have fallen asleep. The pleased warmth in Hizashi’s heart doesn’t fade for the rest of the day, between his moms helping him dry and feed the kittens, and telling them about Aizawa and how he hopes they could be friends. Hizashi takes a million pictures of the kittens, intent on showing them to Aizawa before class tomorrow.


	3. Origins part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aizawa's perspective of his third day of school.

Shouta quietly contemplates his first two days of school on the walk to his third. UA is exactly what he expected for the top school in the country. It’s fast paced. Even the two short weeks he’d been enrolled at a different school near his home was enough time for a noticeable gap to grow between him and his new classmates. The students of UA are what he expected as well, a collection of your standard upper crust jerks.

Well, except for Yamada.

Yamada is different, to say the least. For all Shouta knows he might be just as much of a rich shoe-in as the others, but he doubts it. He didn't give off that _“holier than thou, you’re too dirty to address”_ kind of vibe the others did. A s far as Shouta could tell, Yamada _should_ be the most popular person in their class. He’s kinda, cheerful, talkative, and  _attractive._ But, for whatever reason, the rest of the class treated Yamada with an odd, polite sort of dread. Shouta couldn’t understand any of it.

The rest of the class couldn't have had similar first impressions as Shouta's own. His harsh judgment of Yamada during their initial interaction didn’t fit a beginning of the school year meeting. They have no reason to assume Yamada pities them like Shouta had. With the way they act around everyone besides Yamada, they aren’t adverse to loud people or making friends as a whole, either. So why did they purposefully leave Yamada outside looking in?

He passes the front gates of UA without an answer. A small group of people he vaguely recognizes but can’t place the names of fall into step with him. They’ve clearly been waiting for him. He doesn’t pause to hear what they have to say, but that doesn’t stop them from talking.

“Hey, Aizawa, we noticed you’ve been eating lunch in the classroom,” there’s a pause, Shouta doesn’t fill it, so the girl who spoke continues, “You can sit with us if you want to, you know. You don’t have to humor him.”

Idiots. Like Shouta would ever do anything he didn’t want to, out of _social obligation_ of all things. His continued silence is taken as an invitation, and one of the boys in the group chimes in.

“Yeah, even if he tries to follow you to eat with us, it’s fine! We can just moves spots until he gives up, it worked for us last week.”

Shouta would rather eat an entire lemon _whole_ than suffer through lunch with these people. He’s still debating whether it’s worth his breath to tell them as much, when the last person in the group speaks their piece.

“You don’t know because you’re new, but he’s more than just annoying, the teachers can’t prove anything but-”

Shouta decides it _is_ worth his breath, and stop walking suddenly. He glares over his shoulder, and the entire group reflexively takes a step back.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’d rather eat alone than with any of you, and if the teachers can’t prove it then it’s probably not true. Go away.”

Without a second thought, Shouta leaves the entire group of gossips behind. He has a good guess as to who they were talking about, of course- he’s not that hopeless- but it bothered him that no one clarified it was Yamada they were referring to. None of them _really_ want to be friends, he’s sure. They wouldn’t look at him twice if it wasn’t for his status as ignorant new kid and their bad opinion of Yamada. Their distaste of Yamada proves it, if they don't like someone as likeable as him, they definitely wouldn't enjoy Shouta's company.

They’re not the first to try and convince him Yamada should be avoided, either, which is especially ridiculous when you take in the short time frame they had to work with. He’s been here _three days,_ including today. He spent lunch and the majority of his walk home with Yamada. That left the walk into school yesterday and today, and the brief moment yesterday, where he’d still been packing his things after Yamada had left. The first to approach him about it had been the _class president_ of all people. Iida had caught him as he was trying to leave, and _oh so generously_ explain that Yamada just wanted attention and that ignoring him was for the best. Shouta had been in a rush, so he hadn’t done anything but glare as he walked past. He sort of wishes he’d taken the time to chew him out. Maybe he would have spread the word and Shouta would be left alone. But then he would have missed the kittens, and Yamada would have walked all the way home carrying them without an umbrella.

Shouta opens the door to 1-B without further interruption. He turns to walk to his seat and catches Yamada’s eye. Something in his stomach twists painfully as Yamada _beams,_ arm waving wildly in greeting.

“AIZAWA!!! Good morning! I have something I wanna show ya, come ‘ere!”

Shouta barely manages to keep his face clear of any incriminating expressions as he nods. As soon as he’s settled in his seat, Yamada scooches into the aisleway so they’re shoulder to shoulder. Yamada holds his unlocked phone between them, his gallery open. Shouta’s heart flips as he catches sight of the first few photos, Yamada wanted to show him the kittens. He scrolls through a truly impressive number of pictures as he talks.

“My moms were cool with it, like I thought! We dried them off and checked them over for any injuries or fleas, all that stuff, and we’re gonna take ‘em to a vet today to see if we missed anything. They’re so _soft,_ man! I love them. OH-” he pauses to pull something from his bag, before offering Shouta’s collapsable black umbrella back, “I almost forgot! Thanks so much for letting me use it, it was super thoughtful of you!”

Shouta takes it from him, embarrassed at the praise.

“Don’t mention it.”

Yamada smile widens further. Shouta squints, and thinks to himself that Yamada’s face is too bright to look at directly. Yamada talks to him about each of the kittens, and Shouta splits his focus between the conversation and Yamada himself, the thoughts from earlier resurfacing.

Yamada Hizashi talks with his hands. He has _dimples_. His eyes are the most vibrant shade of green he’s ever seen. How could anyone ever hate this boy made of sunshine who saves kittens from the rain?

Class starts a few minutes later. Yamada smiles sheepishly, and quickly scooches his chair back to his desk. Class is difficult, but normal, and lunch rolls around quickly enough. Shouta pulls out his food as most of the class shuffles out. A few try to grab his attention from the door, but he pointedly ignores them in favor of sucking down a vitamin jelly. But, when Yamada taps his shoulder and points them out to him with a hesitant smile on his face, Shouta's resolve crumbles. His plan to ignore the problem until it goes away is gone in seconds. Shouta nods his thanks to Yamada, and walks over to see what the group want, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“What.”

The boy at the front has dyed white hair and a large underbite. He answers his question, so Shouta labels him as the spokesperson for the group.

“We haven't seen you in the Lunchroom yet, Aizawa, so we figured we'd invite you to eat with us.”

How annoying, he knows Shouta's name but didn't introduce himself.

“No.”

Shouta turns to head back to his seat, but the white haired boy grabs his shoulder. Shouta's glare turns from cool indifference to glacial in an instant, but the hand stays put. He's visibly put off by the glare, but powers through anyway. The boy drops his voice to a whisper, but he’s not quiet enough to keep his voice not to carry across the otherwise silent classroom. Shouta is once again affronted by the sheer rudeness of his classmates.

“Come on, it's fine, he's not going to die from eating lunch by himself, you don't need to sit with him if-”

Shouta swats the hand off his shoulder, and doesn't bother to try and keep his voice down.

“I said _no,_  pull your head out of you ass and get a lesson on basic manners, you overgrown _child.”_

He walks back to his seat, leaving the others sputtering behind him. They linger for a few seconds longer, then the white haired boy scoffs and slams the door as they leave. Shouta rolls his eyes and goes back to his lunch.

Yamada is staring at him. Shouta finishes his second vitamin pouch as he waits for Yamada to say what's on his mind. If the past couple days had taught him anything, it was that Yamada liked to talk. Sure enough, after a few minutes, Yamada opens up, voice quiet and vulnerable.

“Why didn't you go?”

 _Why did you pick me over them?_ Shouta hears, but isn't said. Shouta has never been good with words, or comfort, but he tries.

“They were rude.”

He doesn't care if he's popular or not, so correcting presumptuous jerks is no skin off his back. He doesn't care what they think of him, he's here to _learn_ not to be a kingpin to people he likely wouldn’t see again after graduation.

“Oh.”

Yamada still looks troubled. Shouta can't think of anything else to say, or how to prompt Yamada to say anything more specific about why he’s down. Talking seemed to cheer him up the last time Shouta had seen him upset, when he'd found Yamada crying after school. There's another moment of awkward silence as Shouta finds a change of topic.

“Tell me about the kittens again.”

It does the trick, Yamada perks up and pulls out his phone before moving his chair closer again. They spend the rest of lunch talking and looking at the pictures Yamada had taken. Some of Yamada's excitement from this morning seems to return, and he's in a much better mood by the time class starts, much to Shouta's relief.

The rest of the school day is uneventful and quiet. Sorahiko-sensei keeps Yamada back after classes are over, so Shouta heads out on his own. They had never really _said_ they would walk home together, it just happened that way before now. Yamada had left on his own yesterday, so Shouta assumes he should do the same. It’s raining again. The walk is peaceful, the patter of rain on his umbrella is soothing and blocks out basically everything else.

That peace is broken about halfway to the train station.

There’s a terrifying crunch of metal, then a car flies over Shouta and lands on its side a hair’s breadth away from his face. He stumbles backwards in surprise, dropping the handle of his umbrella to catch himself. The only thing keeping it from flying away is the strap around his wrist. Lightning quick, he looks over his shoulder to see what caused the accident. The mess of a street behind him has an obvious origin: there’s someone in a red, white, and black spandex suite with their entire arm shoved through the hood of a car, the vehicle has _bent around it,_ like they had stopped it with a spread hand or a punch. With horrified detachment, Shouta notices there’s blood streaming down the face of the culprit. Shouta slowly stands up, taking in the full chaos of the scene, before the person at the epicenter speaks.

“I AM **_VLAD KING!_ ** AND YOU **_WILL_ ** BRING ME AIZAWA SHOUTA, OR **_FACE MY WRATH!”_ **

A chill runs down Aizawa’s spine, but he forces himself to move slowly as he backs towards a side street. Vlad King isn’t facing him, he can get away if he’s careful.

“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I _SAID_ **_BRING HIM TO ME!”_ **

All of the bystanders scatter all at once, terrified by the individual standing in the street. Shouta takes the opportunity to slip away with the crowd, before ducking down a side street and well out of sight. He double checks to make sure no one has followed, before pulling open his uniform jacket.

“Plagg!”

The tiny black cat-like being floats lazily out of his inner pocket.

“What? I was taking a nap!”

Shouta smiles apologetically, offering a soft scratch as he continues.

“I think it’s time.”

“You woke me up for an _I think?_ Kid, there’s no room for that, either it’s an akuma or it’s not. You’ll know it when you see it.”

A second car rolls side over side past the mouth of the side street. Shouta raises his eyebrows slightly, lips pursed to keep from laughing. Plagg sighs dramatically.

“Fiiiiiiiine, let’s get this over with. I better get some extra good cheese after this! None of that stringy stuff!”

Shouta smiles and nods, before holding out the hand with a silver ring.

“Plagg, claws out!”

There’s a flash of green and black, a surge of power, then Kuro Neko is crouched were Shouta had been a moment before. His costume isn’t anything flashy, it honestly looks like something you could buy at a thrift store. It’s all sturdy, black, and easy to move in. There are a few things that give away that it’s something special, though. There are large pointed ears poking out of his hair, a strange white scarf around his neck (the end of which draped down his back and swayed like a tail), and paw pads on the palm of his fingerless gloves. The ears and tail seem to have a mind of their own, they move without a thought. It’s odd, but Kuro is _almost_ used to it, after spending a few hours running across rooftops the night before.

Kuro brings up a hand to touch the mask, paranoia making him check before he leaves the relative safety of the alley. Then, he grabs a loop of the scarf and launches it up to wrap around the top of a fire escape. He pulls, and _whoops_ quietly as he flies easily into the air. It’s a bit of a rough landing, but it’s better than falling like he had the first time he’d tried it, so he takes it as a win and looks down on the mess Vlad King is making.

He freezes on the spot when he makes eye contact with the guy in question. Vlad King points at him, then pulls back his fist and punches air. A shot of red liquid flies from his arm, and it’s all Kuro can do to dodge out of the way. It shatters against the roof like glass. A second shot quickly follows the first, and Kuro watches it change from a liquid to a crystal-like solid. It’s like a red icicle, honestly. Kuro leaps off the roof, landing softly on all fours, then flings out his scarf-like capture weapon to try and grab the arm Vlad King had been punching with.

It wraps securely up to Vlad King’s elbow, looking like bandages, especially with the red seeping through. Vlad King simply secures his grip on it, then _yanks._ Kuro is jerked off his feet. Vlad king slowly walks forward as he speaks.

 _“You_ are not who I’m looking for, but **_Hawkmoth_ ** is. I’ll deal with you now, since you were so kind as to show up alone. **_Give me your miraculous!”_ **

Kuro glares from his spot on the pavement, watching, _waiting,_ then rolls between Vlad king’s legs, capture gear still securely in hand. He pulls with all his might, and Vlad King trips forward from the combined pull on his arm and pressure against his legs. Just as Kuro reaches for another loop of the scarf, aiming to wrap the akuma victim up further, Vlad King shoots more of, what Kuro belatedly puts together is _Vlad King’s blood,_ straight at Kuro’s face. He falls into an impromptu back bend, then kicks backwards to regain his feet a few paces back. He pulls on the capture gear _again,_ tightening the pressure on the other’s arm in the hopes of cutting off his supply for ranged attacks. Vlad King returns in kind, and Kuro stumbles, barely keeping his feets.

Desperately, Kuro yells out, “TENTŌMUSHI! I COULD USE A LITTLE HELP HERE!”

Vlad King wrenches him forward once more, timing it with a punch, and Kuro Neko slams his eyes shut to brace for the blow, free arm up to try and block it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the cliff hanger and doing Tensei dirty like that B U T, I must, for the sake of Plot(tm) and consistent chapter length. I love you all, your reviews give me life <3


	4. Origins part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hizashi transforms for the first time.

Sorahiko-sensei calls to Hizashi as he packs his things, and Hizashi’s heart rate picks up. He hates being held after class, he always feels like he’s done something wrong, whether he’d actually gotten into mischief or not. Slowly, he finishes packing up as the rest of the class files out. Aizawa glances at him, and for a moment Hizashi thinks he’s going to wait for him, and the next Aizawa is walking out the door. Hizashi tries not to be too disappointed. After what happened at lunch, he thought they might be friends after all, but Aizawa could just _really_ dislike impolite people. Now he doesn’t know what to think. It doesn’t matter now, Aizawa had headed home regardless, Hizashi could mull it over more when he did the same. Sorahiko-sensei waves him towards the front after the classroom clears.

“Relax kid, you’re not in trouble.” Hizashi’s shoulders immediately lose some of their tension, though he’s embarrassed he was being so transparent, “I wanted to let you know you won’t have to test separately again. With Yoshirao and her parents’ complaints no longer being relevant, as Aizawa has joined the class, I can overrule the board’s request. I’m sorry it took so long, Yamada-kun. Be sure to let me know if anyone gives you any trouble for it, alright?”

Hizashi nods quickly, a flutter of relief in his chest.

“That was all, you can head out now. Be safe, kid.”

Hizashi bows, a beaming smile on his face, and practically skips out the door. _That_ was a real weight off his shoulders. He couldn’t wait to tell his moms, they’d be ecstatic! And with any luck, Aizawa wouldn’t believe the rumors when they inevitably pick up again. Or, at least, Aizawa seemed like the type to ask directly, and Hizashi could plead his case properly. It would be a first, if he did, but Aizawa was a first for a lot of things already, it didn’t seem too far out of the realm of possibilities.

There, walking ahead of Hizashi as if summoned by his thoughts, is Aizawa. Hizashi lifts an arm, a loud greeting on the tip of his tongue, when a screech of metal getting the life crushed out of it drowns him out, and shadow passes over his head. Frozen in disbelief, Hizashi watches as _an entire car_ lands inches away from Aizawa. Hizashi is speechless. Slowly, he turns to see what had nearly killed his only potential friend.

Standing in the middle of the road with his first shoved into the front of an innocent four-door, blood streaming down his face, is what Hizashi can only label as a super villain.

_You want me to, what? Be a ladybug-themed magical girl?_

_I usually say ‘superhero.’_

“I AM **_VLAD KING!_ ** AND YOU **_WILL_ ** BRING ME AIZAWA SHOUTA, OR **_FACE MY WRATH!”_ **

Hizashi’s blood turns to ice in his veins. Aizawa. The supervillain wants _Aizawa._ He forces himself not to look back up the street, he’d give Aizawa away if he did.

“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I _SAID_ **_BRING HIM TO ME!”_ **

The crowd scatters in a panic. Hizashi gets swept away with the flood of people, despite fighting desperately to get to Aizawa and _away from that thing._ When Hizashi can’t spot him, he turns to Vlad King, to see if he had. A sudden purple outline of a butterfly frames his eyes, like a masquerade mask. He grumbles to no one, quiet enough Hizashi can’t hear him over the crowd, and the light disappears.

_The butterfly miraculous was stolen, several decades ago, but it’s recently become active again._

There’s a second crash of a car being thrown down the street, as Hizashi ducks into an alleyway.

 _The only thing strong enough to fight a miraculous holder is another miraculous holder,_ **_please, Hizashi, you must understand-_ **

Hizashi’s backpack is off his shoulder in seconds. He scrambles through it, fumbling for the box, for the earrings, _for Tikki, if she was still here._ His movements are so rushed he nearly flings the box behind him trying to pry it open. It had been so easy the first time, but now it seems glued shut. In frustration, he starts whispering furiously.

“Please, _please,_ you’ve gotta _open, it’s happening, right now, and if you don’t then-!”_

There’s echoes of fighting coming from the street. Vlad King is hurting people, right now, and Hizashi’s the only one who can stop it, _and he’s being thwarted by a stupid wooden box._ It’s all too much, that could be _Aizawa,_ maybe Vlad King found him, and he’s- Hizashi’s lip wobbles dangerously, though he refuses to finish the thought. He rests his head in his hands, box pressed firmly between his brows.

 _“He’s the closest thing I have to a friend, Tikki,_ **_please, I have to help him.”_ **

There’s a flash of red light, and Hizashi’s heart soars and stomach drops in equal measure. He’s face to face with Tikki, who’s looking so, so small and unsure. Hizashi feels awful for putting that look there, but he’d really thought it was for the best. Kind of still does, but now’s not the time. Right now he needed information.

“Tikki, it’s _here,_ what do I do?”

Her face clears, slightly, and she seems to straighten with determination. Hizashi grabs the earrings and fumbles for what to do with them _(he_ _doesn’t have his ears pierced)_ as she explains.

“There’s an Akuma out there?” Hizashi’s brows furrow, and she clarifies, “A person who’s been given powers, by the butterfly miraculous?” Hizashi nods, that made sense, “Okay. You need to find the item it’s hiding in, and break it. Use your yo-yo to cleanse it. If you need help, say “Lucky Charm,” it’ll start a five minute countdown before you detransform, but you’ll receive an item to help in return. Throw your lucky charm in the air and say “Miraculous Ladybug” after you’ve cleansed the akuma, and it’ll fix everything that was broken. Got everything so far?”

Hizashi settles for stabbing the earrings through the lapels on his uniform jacket like pins.

“Lucky charm for an item, find where the akuma is hiding, cleanse the akuma, miraculous ladybug to clean up. Got it.”

“Good, say “Spots On” to transform, and-”

Hizashi takes that as a green light by mistake, and says the phrase before he has time to overthink.

“Spots on!”

There's more red light, and Hizashi stumbles backward on instinct as Tikki flies towards his chest, pulled into an earring like a magnet. The earrings turn red, with five black dots, and the transformation starts. In the back of his mind, behind all the panic, Hizashi thinks “magical girl” is a very accurate description. He can't bring himself to strike a proper pose, or _anything_ really, as his clothes change from his school uniform to something befitting a ladybug themed superhero. It's a bright yellow and red suit with a cape. He glances over his shoulder at it, and finds the same spot pattern as his earrings. The whole getup honestly feels like All Might and Robin fused and decided they needed a ladybug motif. The gloves, the boots, _the belt-_ wait, no, that's his yo-yo, at least he has it- _FOCUS HIZASHI!_

He slaps his cheeks to snap out of it, then runs out onto the street. He quickly spots Vlad King, but stops short when he spots someone else. For a heart stopping instant he thinks it's Aizawa, but no. His hair is in a ponytail, with sections of bangs framing his face and falling into his eyes, and _cat ears_ perched on top of his head. _Definitely_ not Aizawa. Hizashi is snapped out of his thoughts as he watches the catboy drop into an impressive back bend to dodge a shot of blood, right himself, and start a tug-o-war with the odd scarf wrapped around Vlad King's arm.

“TENTŌMUSHI! I COULD USE A LITTLE HELP HERE!”

Vlad King yanks the catboy off his feet, fist raised, and the scene from earlier comes to mind. Of Vlad King, with his fist shoved into the front of a car. Hizashi moves without thinking. His hand grabs the yo-yo from his waist and he flings it towards Vlad King’s poised fist. It's not enough to stop the other boy from pitching forward, but it _is_ enough to keep Vlad King from breaking his face.

“S-sorry I’m late?”

Hizashi winces at how shakey his voice is, but it doesn’t last long. Vlad King yanks the arm that’s caught by his yo-yo, pulling Hizashi off his feet. He squeaks and lands hard on his elbows. As Hizashi tilts his head up, he comes nose-to-nose with the cat boy. His eyes are a glowing golden-yellow, and it makes Hizashi think of the black cats people said had "lamp-eyes" in horror stories with witches and magic. He offers Hizashi a hand, and Hizashi takes it.

The cat pulls them both to their feet, just in time to jump out of the way of another thrown car. They each have their weapons wrapped around an arm, but Hizashi is starting to think that’s a bad idea when Vlad King starts to reel them in. Hizashi tugs on the end of his yo-yo, and it miraculously comes loose. Maybe part of the magic is intent…? He’ll have to ask Tikki, but later. The cat releases Vald King as well, and they stumble backwards together. This isn’t a fight they can win with brute force alone, so getting some distance is probably best. But first, introductions, calling him “the cat” and “cat boy” didn’t really fit.

“Hi, I’m-” Hizashi pauses, he probably shouldn't give his real name, “Tentōmushi.”

“That’d make me Kuro Neko, then. Where are we going?”

Both names are fitting, if uncreative. Nice.

“Away, mostly? I can get us something that’ll help, but I saw the guy the Akuma was talking about earlier, so some distance seems like a good idea all around, right?”

Kuro nods.

“Right. Have you tried getting onto buildings with that thing, yet?”

He gestures to Hizashi’s yo-yo.

“No, haven't had the time, why?”

Instead of answering, Kuro wraps an arm around Hizashi’s waist, and throws out one end of his scarf. Hizashi squeaks and clings onto Kuro’s neck, eyes wide as he watches the ground grow smaller beneath them. They manage to stick the landing, several hundred yards from where they were a few moments ago, and much higher up.

“Alright, do your thing. I’ll make sure he doesn’t throw a car at you.”

Hizashi manages a shaky smile, and a thumbs up. He takes a few steps back, he’s not sure how much space he needs for this, and holds out his arms hesitantly, ready to hold or catch whatever appeared. Would it appear in his hand? On the ground? Fall from the sky?

“L-lucky charm?”

His yo-yo seems to grow a mind of its own, and flies a few feet into the air, spinning and releasing ladybugs into the air. The sight of them gives Hizashi a full body shudder. There’s a sensation static in his fingertips. He’s been trying not to think about it, about what he's doing, but faced so directly with his fear brings it all to the front of his mind. There’s a quiet thud of something hitting the roof, but all Hizashi can do is watch the slowly disappearing stream of ladybugs, and scratch at his arms. He wants it _off,_ he suddenly can’t stand the feel of this costume on his skin, it's more like an exoskeleton than clothing, now.

But he doesn’t know how.

His costume doesn’t come with a zipper, there are no buttons or clasps, Hizashi has no idea how to detransform. He’d cut Tikki off before she could tell him. Hizashi’s knees buckle and his throat closes. Both hands rake through his hair, chasing an imaginary itch. This is awful, it's exactly why he didn't want this, _why_ _he can't do this._ Hands cup his cheeks, and Hizashi refocuses. Instinctively, his hands fall to clasp Kuro's wrists. Kuro Neko’s eyes are hypnotic; Hizashi can’t find it in him to pull away.

 _“Breathe,_ Tentō. What's wrong?”

Hizashi chokes out a laugh, and it's startling enough to kick his lungs back into gear. Whenever he's embarrassed, he tries to laugh it off, to lessen the sting. Now seems to be no different.

"Nothing, sorry, it's stupid, we have other things to worry about."

He jerks his head towards the street, where he can still hear Vlad King punching innocent cars. Kuro Neko still seems unsure, so Hizashi slowly forces his fingers to let go as he continues.

"Really, I'll be okay, at least until we can finish this."

Kuro lets his hands drop after another moment of searching Hizashi's face.

"Fine, but we're talking about this later."

That's fair, Hizashi has quite a few questions of his own. Though, maybe he should ask Tikki some of them first. He stands up to retrieve the lucky charm. It's a box, with red with black polkadots. Inside is an equally red and black polkadotted top hat. It's way too big to fit either of them, just by looking at it. They share a dubious glance before Hizashi shrugs helplessly.

"My kwamii said it'd give us something to help, but not much else. Any ideas?"

"Maybe," Kuro says slowly, "But first, where's the akuma hiding?"

Right, that would affect the plan, probably. Hizashi peeks off the roof to take another look at Vlad King. Sure, his whole outfit is eye catching, but there's nothing really out of place. Except...

"Has he opened his left hand at all? Do you remember?"

Understanding dawns on Kuro's face.

"No. I'm sure, he hasn't."

Hizashi nods to himself, and says what they're both thinking.

"He must be holding it. We just need to get him to drop it. What's your idea?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Hizashi, I'll fix this next chapter, I promise D: Neko Kuro won't let that sorta reaction go, you'll talk it out and come up with a system


End file.
